In the Long Run

I call it a boa, but the package it came in identifies it as a “Magic Scarf”. I gave it to myself for Christmas, a common practice of mine for which some have called me selfish, and perhaps rightly so, but for which I refuse to apologize, and brazenly admit does not make me lose too much sleep at night.

The magic scarf appeals to the senses in many ways—bright and colorful, fuzzy and soft. It is 100% polyester, and 100% non-American-made, for which I lamely apologize, but, again, brazenly admit does not make me lose too much sleep at night.

The package illustrates eight versatile ways of wearing the magic scarf, although some of the variations look suspiciously similar.

I think it looks striking with my black jacket and my pea coat, which I wear frequently to church functions in the current winter temperatures. So the boa has become an indispensable part of my winter outer wear. It is a fairly unique, and I daresay, desirable, item. I have seen similar products, but few that are just like it. There’s just one problem.

I was so charmed by the boa that I bought several for gifts, and I gave one to a woman at church for whom I was a “Secret Santa”. So now I’m worried that she will see me at church meetings wearing my boa, and instantly identify me as the heretofore anonymous giver. I’m torn, because my church functions are the majority of occasions for which the boa is appropriate attire. I mean, I could hardly wear the boa to my job at the gym with my standard workout clothes without raising a few eyebrows.

Still, I refuse to be a closet boa-wearer. Today I boldly wore my boa to church, breezed into the chapel and sat down in the pew. Then I made my Key Limey scan the congregation for the other woman, preparing to hide my feathery accessory quickly in my bag should she be present. She was not there today, so the beautiful boa graced and warmed my neck throughout the service.

Posted by Cyppy at 6:18 PM